


Heal Me

by iloverudi



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Avatar Katara (Avatar), Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship/Love, Hurt Zuko (Avatar), Other, Zuko (Avatar) Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:07:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25370620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iloverudi/pseuds/iloverudi
Summary: "Katara ran her thumb over the soft, raised skin around his injured eyed. She knew what he was thinking. It was only the scar that held him back, nothing else. If the scar was gone, so would be the pain."It is storytime around Team Avatar's campfire, and everyone is curious about the tale behind Zuko's scar. But some memories are too painful to talk about.AKA Zuko trusts Katara more than she thought.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 213





	Heal Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever ATLA fanfiction. I hope you enjoy! If you seen any mistakes, please let me know.

“And that’s how Appa and I discovered the elephant koi at Kyoshi!” Aang finished his tale with a beaming smile. 

Supper had just finished around the small campfire. Bellies were full and bowls were empty as the moon climbed slowly into the darkening sky. 

It was a peaceful place to camp. A nearby lake offered water for drinking, playing, and bending. The cover of the woods protected the little campsite from strong winds, and a hilltop in the distance gave Aang a good vantage point to keep watch and meditate.

“That was a great story, Aang.” Katara offered gentle encouragement before Toph cut in.

“Yeah, just as good as the other ten times we’ve heard it.” 

Aang frowned indignantly over the fire at Toph’s lounging form. Usually after supper the gang would share stories to pass the hours until bedtime, though it seemed tonight no one could think of anything new to tell. 

“Well, then how about you tell a story?” Aang crossed his arms.

“I’m more of a listener than a teller.” Toph shrugged, falling back completely so that she was facing the night sky. 

“I could sing us a song?” Sokka suggested brightly, but was met with a resounding “No!” from the group. 

“A haiku?” He lifted his finger.

“Please, no more poetry!” Toph complained loudly, rolling away from the fire. 

“I know.” Katara cut in, “How about you tell a story, Zuko?” 

All eyes turned onto the latest recruit of Team Avatar. Toph rolled back to face everyone, an enthusiasm in her grey eyes. Though she’d never admit it, she loved the sound of Zuko’s voice. 

“Now there’s an idea!” She exclaimed, sitting up.

“Me?” Zuko pointed to himself, his gaze hopping from one face to another. 

“Yeah, I mean we really don’t know a  _ whole _ lot about you, besides our past encounters.” Aang agreed with Katara through a crooked smile. 

“You are usually pretty quiet during storytime.” Sokka raised his eyebrows.

“Well,” Zuko hesitated, “I am more of a...listener. Like Toph.” 

“Only room for one of us in this group.” Toph drawled, pulling her knees to her chest and setting her chin on them. 

“It’s just-I really don’t have any stories.” Zuko shrugged his shoulders, glancing from the little earthbender back to the others. 

“What about your scar?” Sokka wondered. 

“Sokka.” Katara shot her brother a warning glance.

“What? I’m just curious.” Sokka defended, widening his eyes and tossing up his hands. 

“Zuko has a scar?” Toph blinked. 

“Yeah, right on his fa-” 

“ _ Sokka _ .” Katara repeated, this time with a stern frown. 

“It’s okay.” Zuko raised his hand. “I know you all are curious. Everyone always is.” He tilted his head, his eyes falling to the side. “It’s just...it’s kind of a long story.” 

“We have plenty of time.” Aang straightened, readying himself for the tale. 

“Yeah, plenty!” Toph agreed, scooting closer to the firebender. “So, what was it, a battle wound?” 

“Training accident?” Sokka guessed.

“Mistake?” Aang wondered, his mind flashing back to his first fire-bending lesson. 

"It was my father.” Zuko silenced the array of questions. 

The words hung in the air for a moment. Zuko’s eyes remained on the ground next to him. 

“Fire Lord Ozai did that to you?” Aang wondered, his tone now low and serious. Zuko did not answer, but nodded. 

“But, you’re his son.” Sokka shook his head in disbelief. 

“I know.” Zuko frowned. 

“Well, it had to be a mistake, right?” Katara wondered, her brow furrowing. 

“No, he wanted to hurt me.” Zuko’s eyes squinted slightly, as if he were struck with pain by the word ‘hurt’.

“But why-” Aang began, but Zuko interrupted him. 

“Because he’s a monster, that’s why!” He snapped, meeting all the eyes around him. Everyone was startled by the exclamation, and Zuko seemed just as surprised it had come out of him. He seized the moment of shocked silence. “You know, I thought I could talk about this but I just can’t.” 

“Okay, that’s fine-” Sokka began but Zuko didn’t allow him to finish. 

“No, it’s not fine.” He spat, rising.

“Look, I’m sorry.” Sokka tried to get the apology out before Zuko could retreat out of the firelight. 

“We all are.” Katara added, touching her brother’s hand.

“Well, so am I.” Zuko retorted bitterly, storming off into the darkness. 

No one spoke for a moment. They all just stared at the spot Zuko had formerly occupied, an invisible cloud of guilt hanging heavily over them. 

“I could feel his heartbeat.” Toph broke the stifling air. “It got so hard.” 

“I shouldn’t have said anything.” Sokka sighed, pressing a palm to his head. “I didn’t mean to upset him.” 

“We know, Sokka.” Aang replied, “None of us did.” 

“I think I should talk to him.” Katara began to rise, but Aang grabbed her arm.

“Are you sure? Maybe we should just give him some space.” 

“Trust me, Aang.” Katara placed her hand on his own, giving it a reassuring squeeze before disappearing into the darkness herself. 

_______

Zuko stood at the edge of the lake, his silhouette dark against the bright moonlight on the water. He threw a rock, releasing a cry of frustration as it broke the moon’s soft reflection. 

“Hey.” Katara greeted him softly. She felt almost like an intruder as she stepped up beside him.

Zuko did not look at her, but kept his eyes on the water. Katara followed his gaze, her eyes settling on the ripples where the rock had hit. 

“I have something for you.” She added, gently taking his hand up. Zuko glanced down at her fingers, so delicately wrapped around his own, as Katara pressed something into his palm. 

It was a white flower, velvety and almost glowing in the moonlight. The soft petals were prominent and rounded, though one was obviously missing. 

“It’s beautiful.” He murmured, brushing his thumb over the bloom. 

“It’s imperfect.” Katara replied. Zuko glanced up into her face. Her blue eyes were set earnestly on him, her brows knitted together in a sweet, gentle expression. “But, the fact that it’s missing a petal doesn’t spoil it.” 

“Just the memory of how it lost the petal.” Zuko swallowed, crushing it in his fingers. 

He turned away from her, letting the flower fall into the water lapping quietly at the edge of their feet. 

“You can’t understand, Katara. None of you can.” 

“Then help me to.” Katara touched his arm. Zuko glanced at her, his jaw tightening as he shook his head. 

Katara deflated slightly, certain that he would say no more. She wanted so badly to know what was going on beneath his surface, but she would not push him. Rather, Katara released a breath, rubbing a small circle on his shoulder as they listened to the murmur of the night.

“I know I shouldn’t let it hurt me anymore.” Zuko sighed after a long moment. Katara paused in her movement, focusing all her attention on his words. “I know it’s over. I confronted my father, I told him how I feel, I am fighting against him, I owe nothing to him now. But, everytime-”

Zuko closed his eyes, swallowing as if he felt nauseous. He took a deep breath before continuing on. 

“Everytime a person stares, everytime a child points, everytime I see my own reflection, I just feel this...this  _ hatred _ swell inside me.”

He pulled away from her, walking a few feet down the shoreline. Katara knitted her fingers together, holding her clasped hands against her chest. 

“I am trying to be good, I am trying to let it go, I am trying to stomp it out. But when I think about that day, begging on my knees to  _ him _ -” 

Zuko’s words were becoming rough and uneven. The sound alone burnt Katara’s heart. 

“I just want to hurt him. I want to cause him even just a fraction of the pain he’s caused me. I-I just wish I could-”

“Zuko, that is not you anymore.” Katara reminded him, her words calm against his rising agitation. 

“I know.” He spun to face her. “I don’t want it to be, but just-just imagine living with a permanent reminder of the worst moment of your life. Of the worst pain you’ve ever felt!” 

He kicked at the water, his fury flashing for an instant in his palms. Katara did not step back at the outburst, but forward.

“Zuko.” She almost whispered his name, her cooling hands taking up his hot one. His shoulders rose and fell with each breath he took. “I wish there was something I could do, really.” Katara squeezed his fingers, each word coming from her heart. 

“So do I.” He glared at the water as if it were the object of his anger. Then suddenly, his eyes widened. “But, there is.” 

He turned, setting his golden gaze on Katara’s face. 

“Once, once before you told me you could heal me, when we were in Ba Sing Se.”

“Zuko I-” Katara began, turning away. He caught her wrist, pulling her back. 

“Please, Katara, I swear I’d never ask for anything else. I would never seek another favor in all my life.” 

The hard tenor that defined his voice and person wavered. He pulled on her hand, sinking onto the shore of the lake, dragging her down with him. 

“You're the only person who can fix this, who can fix me. Please, I know I don’t deserve it, I know I have no right to ask anything of you, but- please just heal it, Katara.” Zuko grasped Katara’s other hand, putting them both on his face. “Just take it away.” 

There was a fragility to his expression that Katara had not seen before. A vulnerability that she never imagined coming from him. Katara could not help but wonder what else simmered beneath his stony exterior, but there was no time for that now. She had to answer.

“I can’t, Zuko.” 

“Why not?” He nearly snapped, the words raw and leaping with frustration. 

Katara ran her thumb over the soft, raised skin around his injured eyed. She knew what he was thinking. It was only the scar that held him back, nothing else. If the scar was gone, so would be the pain. He wouldn’t have to think about that day ever again, he would never be reminded of it, he could move on completely. Katara knew these hopes that were making him so desperate. She also knew they were false. 

“I can’t heal it, Zuko, because it’s  _ already healed _ .”

His expression broke. Zuko tried to turn away, but Katara still had a hold of him. She pulled him towards herself and he fell into her chest. Katara wrapped her arms around his shoulders as his tears dampened her dress. 

“It’s not fair!” His words were ragged, along with the breaths he tried so desperately to control. Katara was nearly startled by the sound of his voice, by it’s boyishness, by it’s brokenness.

“I know.” Katara murmured, rubbing his back. 

“No one knows! No one will ever know.” He coughed into her shoulder, his grip tightening on her clothes.

Katara’s eyes stung with oncoming tears, her heart aching at his anguish. She closed her eyes tight, fighting them back. She had to keep together, for him. Katara took a deep breath, pulling Zuko as close as she could, hugging him with all her strength. 

They said no more. There was nothing else she could say, there was nothing he wanted to. Katara just held him, held him until his small gasps quieted, his sharp breaths slowed, and his fists unravelled into open palms. 

Katara looked up at the moon. In the time it had taken Zuko to fall asleep, the celestial orb had climbed to its full height in the sky. She looked back down at the form in her arms, bathed in the hazy light. 

It amazed her how the expression, only an hour before so rigid, had softened. Katara could not help but be reminded of how young Zuko really was, how young they all were. He was only a boy. How Katara had seen him as anything else, she did not now know. 

Katara stroked her hand over his head, brushing back the hair from the unscarred side of his face. She wondered for a moment what he looked like before. How innocent that face must have been, how innocent  _ he _ must have been. 

“Katara?” Aang’s voice roused her from her thoughts.

Katara turned slightly to see him approaching from down the lake shore. She knew it was only a matter of time before someone came searching for them. And, though she was grateful that Aang cared enough to check on them, Katara could not help but be a little sorry for the broken silence. 

“ _ Shh _ .” Katara put a finger to her lips as he drew near. “Zuko is asleep.” 

“Oh.” Aang’s mouth rounded as he squatted down on her other side. “What happened?” he whispered, his eyes scanning over his firebending master. 

“He-” Katara began, but stopped. “He was just tired.”

“Hmm.” Aang gave a small nod. Katara could tell he did not quite believe her, but he was not the kind to pry. “When are you coming to sleep?” 

“In a while.” Katara murmured, glancing back down at Zuko. “I don’t want to wake him.” 

“Okay.” Aang watched as she placed her hand back on Zuko’s head. “Just don’t stay up too late.” 

“I won’t.” Katara replied.

Aang watched her for a moment more, but Katara did not notice. He rose, a small frown pulling on the corner of his expressive mouth. He lingered only a moment more before disappearing as quietly as he had come. Katara refocused her attention on Zuko. 

She had noticed, during the time he had spent with the group, that Zuko was a restless sleeper. Tossing, turning, kicking, low groans and furrowed frowns. Whenever Katara chanced to wake in the night, she saw them.

But now he was still, everything about him startlingly soft. 

_______

The morning sun was just beginning to peek over the edge of the lake when Zuko finally stirred. He woke slowly at first, nuzzling in deeper to Katara’s shoulder, pulling her lazily closer to himself.

Then, his gold eye widened and he shot up. Memories of the night before bombarded him as he looked frantically over Katara, who lay asleep beside him on the lake shore. How could he have acted so childish in front of her? So stupid? How could he have  _ wept _ in front of  _ her _ ?

Part of him wanted to go, to leave before she awoke and avoid her as long as he could. But the plan was foiled before it even began as her eyes cracked open. Zuko could have sunk into himself as she said. 

“Are you okay?” Her voice was dry with sleep. 

“Oh-yeah.” Zuko answered, rubbing the back of his head. “I...I didn’t mean to keep you here all night.” 

“It’s okay.” Katara replied, sitting up and stretching slightly. “You were sleeping peacefully, I didn’t want to wake you.” 

At the mention of him sleeping, Zuko’s mouth straightened. Katara could tell he hated the thought of being so vulnerable around her. 

“Listen, about last night, I...” he began, but hesitated, the color in his cheeks heightening. “I shouldn’t have--hm, well, I was being childish-”

“Zuko, you don’t have to explain anything to me.” Katara stopped him before he could go on. “I know you have a lot weighing on you, it’s okay to feel hurt or upset sometimes.” 

“But it’s not okay to throw it all on you.” He disagreed. 

“I felt honored you trusted me enough to share with me.” Katara reached over, squeezing his forearm. 

“Hmm.” The sound came from deep within his chest as he looked down at her grasp. “If we could just forget the whole thing.” 

Katara retracted her hand, letting it fall back into her lap. Zuko met her eyes, his face as stern as it had always been. Katara took a deep breath before answering.

“I won’t talk about it. I won’t ever bring it up again, if that is what you’re asking. But, I won’t forget it.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.” He murmured, a frown dashing across his features. “I don’t want this to change how you see me.” 

“It has changed how I see you.” Katara answered. The frown deepened and she added, “Because now, even if it is just a little more, I  _ understand  _ you.” 

A small crease formed between his brows. Katara smiled gently, the morning sun making her expression even warmer. 

“Whether you realize it or not, when you became part of this team you became part of our family. I’m not saying you have to share everything, you don’t have to tell us anything you don’t want to. But, when you need to talk, when you need to be angry, when you need to cry-” Zuko’s eyes fell at the word. Katara continued. “I am here to listen. We all are.” 

There was a moment of silence. For a moment, Katara did not know if he would say anything at all, in fact, she was certain he wouldn’t. Zuko took a deep breath, rising from his spot and blocking the sun from Katara’s eyes. 

“Thank you, Katara.” He murmured. Zuko leaned down, hesitating for only a moment before planting a soft kiss on Katara’s head. “For everything.” 

Katara felt her cheeks grow warm as he straightened, giving her a rare, small smile. He walked past her, back towards the camp. Katara turned, watching his figure until he was out of sight.

Katara turned back towards the lake. She blew out the air she had unconsciously held, shifting the water’s edge with a single breath. 


End file.
